TM #178: Mommy
May. 18th, 2007 09:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
birthrightgreenIt's not a title she ever expected to hear. It's one she worked hard to convince herself she didn't want to hear, because children were not something you wished on any whore. Everything got harder then. While living with Falonar, the same sort of resistance was there. I don't want a child, she had told him, even as her eyes watched Daemonar flying near the rafters.
A year ago, she changed her mind. Two months ago, the world changed.
Life goes on, and old habits reassert themselves. She started training as soon as she'd recovered from the birth and courtesy of the power it took to wear the Grey, she was almost back in fighting form, though her body was still rounded in ways it hadn't been before, and the fullness of breasts that were aching and heavy with milk tended to throw off her balance in subtle ways. Her body was hers again, and yet there was a sure knowledge at her core that it wasn't really, wouldn't really ever be hers again.
It belonged to the sleeping bundle in the crib in the nursery, with her bright green eyes and softly pointed ears that not even her father's blood added to her grandfather's had erased. Surreal hadn't expected that part of her new station. The fierce protectiveness, yes. She had seen it often enough in Titian's eyes to expect it. But the utter surety that she was no longer her own was unnerving in some ways.
In others, it was perfection.
A year ago, she changed her mind. Two months ago, the world changed.
Life goes on, and old habits reassert themselves. She started training as soon as she'd recovered from the birth and courtesy of the power it took to wear the Grey, she was almost back in fighting form, though her body was still rounded in ways it hadn't been before, and the fullness of breasts that were aching and heavy with milk tended to throw off her balance in subtle ways. Her body was hers again, and yet there was a sure knowledge at her core that it wasn't really, wouldn't really ever be hers again.
It belonged to the sleeping bundle in the crib in the nursery, with her bright green eyes and softly pointed ears that not even her father's blood added to her grandfather's had erased. Surreal hadn't expected that part of her new station. The fierce protectiveness, yes. She had seen it often enough in Titian's eyes to expect it. But the utter surety that she was no longer her own was unnerving in some ways.
In others, it was perfection.
